


standing trial for your sins

by scepticallyopenminded



Series: 30 Day Lyrics Challenge - 2017 [24]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angry Stiles Stilinski, Disappointed Scott, Established Relationship, Friend Break Up, Friends fighting, Gen, I have no clue how to tag this???, M/M, Protective Stiles, Sad Stiles Stilinski, Stiles & Scott yell at each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 00:30:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13135386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scepticallyopenminded/pseuds/scepticallyopenminded
Summary: Stiles is seething. His face is red, hot, blood flowing through his veins and the little magic he has is coursing, pounding. His vision is tinting purple, aura glowing just slightly, and the entire pack is tensed, ready. Scott is staring at him, clear disappointment in his expression and Stiles. Does. Not. Fucking. Care.





	standing trial for your sins

**Author's Note:**

> first lemme know if I missed any tags I could NOT figure out how the fuck to tag this shit?
> 
> second, from Brand New's The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot:
> 
> "You are so fragile and thin/Standing trial for your sins/Holding on to yourself the best you can"
> 
> This was quite a lyric to work with. It's such a powerful lyric and this was the first thing that popped into my head and I had to write it and I hope it does the lyric and song justice bc Defalt said this was one of those songs he really really loved and the lyric was really important.

It comes to a head after yet another vicious attack on Beacon Hills, this time by a tizzy of fae who decided to try to trick all of the werewolves into marrying them. Apparently, werewolves are especially fertile (ew) and fae genes are particularly dominant, meaning that most of their offspring (ew) would be fae, leading to an enormously large tizzy of fairies and only the occasional ‘wolf, who they could use in arranged marriages with  _ other  _ fae to create alliances. It’s all very complicated and Stiles isn’t particularly sure why they chose  _ their  _ pack when about half of their pack  _ aren’t even ‘wolves _ , but.

The pack, again, gets out ahead, permanently banishing the tizzy from their territory or surrounding ones, and two full day’s work between Stiles and Lydia creates a spell which curses the tizzy from the ability to reproduce with any but their own kind, protecting other packs from the same fate.

And Stiles  _ knows  _ that they’re all tired, exhausted, ready for a fucking  _ break  _ because the majority of the pack is only twenty and they’ve been fighting near nonstop since they were sixteen, but neither he nor Scott seem to think that  _ maybe  _ immediately after a fight isn’t the best time to talk about this shit. 

“It’s like you’re not even the same person I was best friends with!” Scott nearly yells, and it’s so rare to hear Scott raise his voice  _ ever _ outside of howling that Stiles  _ almost  _ takes a step backward. Instead, though, he forces himself to stand his ground, because who the hell does Scott think he is, anyway?

“What?” he asks, incredulous.. The rest of the pack are standing around them as they’re hashing this out in the middle of his and Derek’s apartment, their go-to pack meeting place, “I haven’t changed at  _ all _ . Just because I’m ready to defend this town and its people and this  _ pack  _ to my own fucking death doesn’t mean I haven’t  _ always  _ been like this!”

“It’s not your death I’m talking about here,” Scott replies, jaw set, and  _ oh _ . 

Fucking  _ ouch _ .

Stiles feels the rage build up - shit he’s kept bottled up for years, fucking  _ years _ because Scott may be shitty sometimes, but his heart’s almost always in the right place. Now, Stiles doesn’t fucking  _ care _ . 

“You have...ignored my opinions since day one of your lycanthropic journey,” Stiles starts, voice deadly low, too calm and Stiles can feel the rest of the pack tense up because this is happening  _ now _ , “From the very start when I suggested that  _ maybe  _ this all might be real. You refused to leave Allison, much as I love her now, alone when we knew that her family was a real threat to you, to me, to your family and friends. You didn’t listen to me when I thought maybe we should trust Derek, or when I told you you should join his pack  _ way back when _ .

“You’ve  _ never  _ listened to me when I’ve suggested that we take out a threat even though  _ I  _ am correct nearly every time because of some fucked up god complex you have that you can get any-fucking-body to change, even if they’re intently evil. And you think you are morally superior to everyone, especially me, because I think and say and do what  _ needs to be  _ thought and said and done to protect this town and  _ ourselves _ .”

Stiles is  _ seething _ . His face is red, hot, blood flowing through his veins and the little magic he has is coursing, pounding. His vision is tinting purple, aura glowing just slightly, and the entire pack is tensed, ready. Scott is staring at him, clear disappointment in his expression and Stiles. Does. Not. Fucking. Care.

“You  _ continually _ decide to listen to outsiders, people you don’t even know if you should trust, over listening to the people who’ve been behind you from day one,” he continues before Scott can respond, eyes flicking to Derek, to Lydia, “Giving everyone a chance to ‘prove themselves’ before you even  _ think  _ about a plan of attack and acting like you’re somehow so much better than the rest of us and I am  _ done _ , Scott.”

He turns toward the stairs, ignoring everyone’s eyes on him. He doesn’t want to be in the same fucking room as Scott, right now. He doesn’t even really want to be in the same town, but he can’t help that. 

“Stiles,” Scott tries when he’s halfway up the stairs. Stiles does stop, but only to shake his head, looking back at Scott.

“No. I’m  _ done _ .”

He’s in their bedroom, door shut behind him, before Scott can respond.

*

He’s on the bed, staring at the ceiling and there  _ might  _ be tears in his eyes, but he’s refusing to let them out. Not now. His anger has all been replaced by a pure sadness, a weight pressing on his chest.

He knows what Scott’s talking about, why he even said it. Stiles has always been the one to suggest killing the supernatural creatures rather than trying to reason with them, and he doesn’t  _ know  _ if that makes him evil or if that just makes him cautious. He’s usually right, usually the pack’s inactivity at first causes  _ some  _ sort of injury and occasionally, death. He doesn’t get why Scott doesn’t see that, why he thinks even after all the trials and tribulations they’ve been through that somehow  _ this one  _ will be the one he can talk to, can get to back down without a fight. 

It’s almost never worked before. And Stiles - he’s not going to sit back and  _ wait  _ for Scott to be able to get through to something or someone who doesn’t give a shit about morals. He’s not going to risk the lives of his dad, his pack, his friends, his boyfriend, his  _ best  _ friend, his neighbors on the off-chance that they  _ might  _ be able to stop it without violence. 

It’s not his fault that Scott thinks that he wasn’t like this before. He can’t remember a time when he wasn’t willing to do anything to protect his loved ones, but then Scott doesn’t really know all that he did to try to protect his mom when he was just eleven years old. There’s some things he hasn’t even felt comfortable telling Scott when they were much closer than they are now.

The door to the bedroom opens, and Stiles startles, ready to let out whatever he has to before he sees it’s only Derek. 

“Everyone’s left,” he tells Stiles, leaving the door open and coming over to the bed. He sits down next to Stiles, pulling him over so that Stiles’ head is leaning against his stomach, shoulders on his thigh. 

“Bet they’re all on Scott’s side, aren’t they,” Stiles mumbles. He wouldn’t blame them, wonders if he  _ is _ fucked up because he puts the lives of his loved ones above strangers. He presses his cheek against Derek’s stomach, closing his eyes. 

“Nobody’s on anybody’s side,” Derek replies, a hand running through Stiles’ hair. They sit in silence for a moment before Stiles feels a sob rack through him - just one, but it’s enough for Derek to feel. 

“Hey,” he says, voice quieter than before, “Hey. It’s okay. I’m here for you.”

“Thought you said nobody was on anybody’s side.” Stiles’ voice is small, muffled even.

“Y’know I’m almost always on your side,” Derek gives a laugh, “And in this. You, me, Lydia, Allison - we’re all the same, willing to do whatever it takes to make sure we’re all okay in the end. Scott - he doesn’t get that. He won’t, Stiles, ever. It’s not who he is.”

Stiles opens his eyes, looking up at Derek.

“You don’t think I was wrong to suggest just killing the fae?” he asks, and he sounds like a fucking  _ child _ , voice trembly and unsure. Derek shakes his head, moving his hand down to interlock his fingers with Stiles’.

“I’m glad it didn’t come to that, and we were able to get rid of them without going that far, but if it  _ had _ . I would’ve been right beside you, Stiles, you know that.”

And Stiles - he doesn’t know where his friendship stands with Scott, right now. Maybe ever again. They’ll always be pack, and Stiles will always love him, and he figures after a few weeks they’ll at least be on speaking terms again. But it’s hard, to think that Scott thinks of  _ him  _ as this - cold-blooded killer. And he knows he thinks of Scott as unable to make the hard decisions, because he has from the beginning. 

Maybe Stiles is fucked up. Maybe Derek is, Lydia is, Allison is. They’ll do what’s needed while the others - Scott, especially - will sit by and let shit happen hoping that they can fix it without losing their so-called morals. And maybe that means that the four of them are fucked up. 

Stiles isn’t sure he cares if that’s what it is.

**Author's Note:**

> find me at [asocialfoxpaw](http://asocialfoxpaw.tumblr.com)
> 
> don't post my shit to goodreads or like sites thanks!!!


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